eculations volunteered by malicious
gentry on board, who, from the hair being somewhat rubbed off, in the
transit to the beach, insisted that I had massacred a pack-mule, which
was in itself mendacious slander.

CHAPTER XIII.

Having completed watering at Sousoulito, we left San Francisco and
returned to Monterey. Even during the short period of our absence a
rapid improvement was visible. Many Mormons had arrived, the streets
were cleansed, and vehicles of a civilized build were occasionally
beheld in the town. Some companies of the Volunteer Regiment were
encamped on the slopes of the hills, and the artillery were busily at
work throwing up fortifications on a pretty eminence, overlooking the
town and harbor. Grog shops were thriving apace--handsomely patronized
by Jack and the soldiers,--and monte banks and gaming were following _en
suite_. Stone buildings were under construction; and among others,
through the excellent management of the Alcalde, a large school-house
presented a bold front to the uneducated natives; thus we had the vices
and virtues hand in hand--no existing without them. There was also a
little newspaper published weekly; for, with the usual enterprise of our
countrymen, and their naturally saturnine dispositions, they had pounced
upon a fount of types, carefully secreted beneath the font of the
church, and instead of being applied to their original purpose of
disseminating the authority of Mexican rulers, they were made to preach
the true republican doctrine to all unbelievers among the astonished
Californians. The editor of this infantile journal was Dr. Semple, who
although supposed to have been connected with the famous Bear party,
wielded the editorial pen with the same facility as his rifle, and
merits all praise for having been the pioneer of civil and religious
liberty in the country. I only trust the Doctor may live to fill his
ample pockets with gold dust, even though they be lengthy as his legs or
editorials.

Remaining barely long enough to take in provisions, we left Monterey on
the 19th of April, and beating clear of Piney Point, with a spanking
breeze, turned our prow towards the Mexican coast. A few days
afterwards, during the night, we discovered the Island of Guadalupe,
laid down in the charts more than half a degree too far south,[1]
though, singularly enough, correct in longitude. Fortunately we had
changed the ship's course previously, for as the night was dark and
c